


DARK CLAWS OF A KING

by SkipBack



Series: Zimvoid King AU [3]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Blood, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, PAK!Zim is here again, and with more lines this time, i mean dude this one's an oh boy right here, one big helping of angst here, some kinda meltdown or whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:02:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24278551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkipBack/pseuds/SkipBack
Summary: A late night thought process that steadily turns from bad to worse.These "king" titles are getting really annoying, but what'cha gonna do?
Series: Zimvoid King AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1748608
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	1. DARK CLAWS OF A KING - PART 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, gang! This one's a two-parter. And by that, the story has been split into two short chapters. I didn't have to, but I thought it'd be interesting. Anyway. Let's get into the story.
> 
> EDIT: had to go back and fix this chapter. Archive fucked up and ruined how I wanted the story to look, so I'm pretty pissed off about that.

Another weird question — could you declaw a person? 

The answer to this question was obviously no. Humans had finger nails, and therefore had no claws. 

Zib wasn't completely human, then. Sure, he'd never really thought about his claws until now. He had found a use for them cutting through various objects, though he never used them as much in the "Zimvoid". They were especially useful here in his new home, now that there was seemingly an unlimited supply of everything; it was a weird thing, but if anyone in the Membrane household was up around at a certain time of night, they would discover where their butter disappeared to (it was better than dirt, Zib could tell you that much... it was a story for another day). 

Wait, where was he? Ah, yes... the claws. 

If anything, the claws had been the most painful part of his transformation of... well, into what he was today. His finger nails had actually fallen off, and his fingers... they'd transformed in a way that he hadn't though possible. Long story short, sharp black claws and grown through, little daggers tipping his fingers, and he hadn't thought about them much since. 

Out of nowhere, they were the only real topic around the house. When Professor Membrane (a version of his father he wasn't sure he'd ever stop feeling about calling "Dad", even if there was hardly any differences between the two because they were technically the same person) had found out they were real, he'd wanted to study them. A human with REAL claws?! He had to see how that worked! For SCIENCE! 

Zib had found he wasn't too fond of the idea; some deep, buried part of him was terrified of being studied, and the most the professor had ever found out about Zib's claws were that they were _very sharp_. Zib had profusely apologized for slashing him any chance he got (afraid he'd be sent back to his realm if he made it look intentional), until the professor had gotten sick of it and told him he'd already been forgiven, stop apologizing, it's not your fault, it's mine for even trying to do something you clearly don't want. Professor Membrane had dropped the study there before it could even begin, and he was considerably weary of what Zib's hands were doing ever since. 

_Stop apologizing. It's not your fault._

That stuck with Zib the most from that whole thing. _It's not your fault. Stop apologizing._

_It's not your fault._

_It's not your fault._

_It's not your fault._

_I'm sorry._

_Stop apologizing. It's not your fault._

_I'm fine._

Zib sat up in bed, taking a shaky deep breath. His mind had been going on loop for the past few hours, making it difficult to sleep. 

_"Ey... something wrong, stinkbug?"_

"I... no," Zib whispered to the PAK. "Thinking. Nothing's wrong, it's fine, I'm fine. Totally fine." 

Zim hummed, something Zib hadn't been aware he could do in his PAK-state. _"If you say so,"_ the PAK said. He didn't press for answers or even continue the conversation, which Zib was greatful for. He didn't want to agrue with Zim at this hour, anyway. 

_His Zim._

It made his stomach flip and kick every time he thought that. _His Zim._ It made him sound weirdly possessive, like he truly did own the once-Irken. He'd called the PAK _his_ PAK a few times before it turned out Zim was still alive in there, but this was different. _His Zim_. _His_ Zim. No one else's. _His._

Professor Membrane had wanted to remove it. 

Had wanted to remove _his Zim._

Zib had firmly, strongly stamped the idea into the ground. _The PAK was staying._

He'd later discovered it was actually Dib's idea to remove the PAK. Stupid, filthy stinking _Dib_... did he not realize how important it was to Zib? How important _his Zim_ was? He'd kept him from going totally insane... they'd actually come to terms that, despite being mortal enemies for so long, there was no point in continuing to fight when there was no way they could. Sure, their fights were only verbal now, but it was more goofing off. 

Why would Zib get rid of the PAK now, now that there was something in there? Something _sentient_. Something _alive_. Even if it was a Zim. There was no way in heck that Zib was getting rid of it now. It was just too important now. _His Zim_ was just too important now. The PAK just _couldn't_ go. Not now. Not ever. 

Zib shakily pulled in a lungful of air. 

_Things are different now._

_Nothing bad will ever happen._

_Zim is safe. I'm okay._

_It's not your fault._

_It's not_ my _fault._

_Everything's gonna be okay._

[my zim, mine, mine, mine, stupid **dib** , doesn't understand, no, please, sorry, help] 

Zib curled up on his side, his eyes closed, taking deep breaths as a new jumbled and confused line of thinking threatened to squeeze its way into the front of his mind, ruining his progress of calming himself down. He _had_ to calm down. _He had to calm down._ He was fine, he just had to keep telling himself that. Everything would be okay. Everything would be fine. This jumbled line of thinking would not win. 

_I'm fine._

_I'm fine._

_I'm fine._

_It's fine, everything's totally fine._

_It's under control. It's fine._

[he's just too important, why would anyone take him away, can't go, must stay, need him to stay] 

_I'm fine._

_I'm totally fine._

[sorry, sorry, sorry, alone, totally alone, not alone, yes alone, help, can't go back, don't wanna go back, must stay here] 

_I-I'm fine..._

Zib felt his resolve crumbling. 

[please, please, _please sorry sorry sorry sorry please sorry help help **help help help help**_ ] 

_I-I'm..._

Before he really realized what he was doing, Zib brought his claws to his face, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

[why won't anyone help me] 

_******** _


	2. DARK CLAWS OF A KING - PART 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OORGH, I would have posted this the day after Part 1 of Dark Claws, but we were experiencing some sudden Internet problems at home so... sorry for going M.I.A for a few days! Ah well, at least it gave me time to work on two other ZKA stories ahead of time.

" _He's an ALIEN, can't you see that?! They're real! There's one right here! A real live alien! RIGHT HERE! HE'S AN—_ " 

Zib lurched out of sleep, instinctively throwing his arms over his face to stop — _nothing_. 

Nothing was hurdling towards his face. He was fine. Just a dream, just a dream... 

Though he felt weirdly exhausted. 

Zib forced his eyes open, sluggishly staring up at his arms. There was a suspicious dark reddish-pink substance dried on his right hand. He caught just the faintest scent of copper... OH. OH SH— 

His previous exhaustion was gone in a heartbeat as he bolted upright, staring down at the blood caked around his fingers, memories of what happened the night before crashing in on his mind. 

_He'd clawed himself._

He'd had some kind of a meltdown, and _clawed himself._ Zib gingerly touched his face were he knew the claw marks were; there was dried up blood on his face around the wounds, and from what he knew, he'd lost quite a lot of blood. 

He had no idea why he'd done that. Really, he could barely remember. He couldn't remember anything about his little meltdown. Sure, he could remember why he was having one but.... Still. Either way, the damage was done now, and he'd no idea what else he'd done; all he could remember, really, was clawing himself in the face. 

At least he hadn't gone for the weird veins on his head. He didn't even want to think about what would happen if he'd slashed those, especially not this early in the morning (they weren't very fun theories, was what he was saying). 

_"You WHAT?!"_ was Zim's reaction when he told him. 

Zib winced, his frown deepening when the PAK's voice caused a little spurt of blood to trickle out of his "nose", whatever was left of his ears ringing. By now, Zib knew it was no use trying to tell the PAK not to shout — it gave him headaches and nosebleeds, yet the PAK felt it was fine to shout whenever he pleased as long other people weren't around to see what it did to Zib. 

But really, Zib was kinda fed up with losing blood right about now. 

" _You said you were fine!"_ the PAK went on. _"How DARE you lie to Zim, you revolting little cockroach?!"_

Zib appreciated the concern from Zim, but he was pretty sure it was because he didn't want to lose the only thing he could project his voice into (even though a part of him liked to imagine that the PAK was truly concerned for his wellfare). "Eh. It's fine now, anyway. See? Well, you really can't, but... I'm fine now!" 

_"You better be,"_ Zim growled, _"because if you're not, I'll figure out how to bust your kneecaps, implant new ones, then bust them again."_

Zib held a bloodied finger to where his nose should be, careful not to get fresh blood on it. "I _swear_ I've heard something like that before...." He shrugged and decided it wasn't worth worrying over. It was just a weird deja vu thing, he was certain of it. 

What he was also certain of was that it'd be a pain in the butt to try to explain this. Trusting he'd be able to slink off to the bathroom to try and wash the blood off his face and hand (and to see what he could do about that nosebleed) without anyone seeing. Yet there were still the claw marks to deal with. How to explain those? 

They'd probably scar, and what an interesting thing to say — he scarred himself. Ha. Haha... ha. Yeah. 

He sighed. By this point, he'd forgotten what his dream was about and he was fine with that. It probably wasn't something to get worked up about anyhow. 

... 

"EUGH! What happened to your _face?!_ " 

It probably wasn't the greatest thing to hear for someone with ugly gash wounds in their face coming down for breakfast, but it was still an appropriate reaction on Dib's part nevertheless. 

Gaz looked up, and her eyes flew open so wide they were practically bulging out of her head. " _Whoa,_ " she said, clearly not sure what else to say. 

Zib reached up to one of the wounds on his face. "I... may have accidentally clawed myself in my sleep," he said. "I'm going to need to wear oven mitts..." His brows raised in a manner that would have been hilarious, if it weren't for the topic of discussion. "Or corks. On my claws." 

Dib pursed his lips, not daring himself to speak. Diagonal and way too perfect, Dib could already tell it was no accident. 

Zib had clearly clawed himself on purpose. 

He decided not to mention it, but from Zib's sideways glance, he could tell that Zib knew that Dib had figured it out. Zib's face hardened, though Dib was sure he was imagining that. Somehow, some kind of staring contest had been initiated, and neither of them seemed to be able to break eye contact. It took Dib all of his willpower not to look away. 

_Show no weaknesses. Don't look cowardly._

In the end, it was Zib who broke eye contact. Dib couldn't help the small burst of triumph that exploded in his chest. _Ha, see?_ he thought at Zib. _You can't scare me, Zib._

_Not anymore._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> McScuse me, Dib? 
> 
> FACT: Zim's quote about busting Zib's kneecaps is based off a line I found in a short fanmade comic I found once where Zim said something similiar to Dib. I have the comic downloaded, but I have no idea who made it because my laptop decided to name it: dashi75-3c9c96a1-18c0-4389-a045-b4dba419ff5c. It doesn't help that the artist's intials are the signature, and I can't, for the life of me, remember their username. Ironic for the kid who does the same thing? You bet your sweetest tooth it is! 
> 
> ALSO, though not listed in the story, five sticks of exotic butter went missing in the Membrane household that day. Zib didn't provide a comment on the matter, and it's caused Dib to highly suspect him. 
> 
> Finally, to top it all off, I finally got another new tumblr account a few days ago; the ones I had before just fuckin' DIED on me because that's how inactive I was before. I post short little stories that aren't necessarily ZKA focused, art, headcanons and nonsense about my AU, and just the overall nonsense I feel like saying from time to time. 
> 
> So, uh... here: 
> 
> https://electrozeistyking.tumblr.com/


End file.
